Reflexology
by tinx-r
Summary: Vietnam's a long time in the past, but Cody needs downtime to keep it there. When the agency's busy, the past creeps closer than anyone's ready for...  Read as slash or gen smarm


Cody had been dozing on the sofa for the best part of an hour, half-leaning on Nick's shoulder, and tuning out both Murray's excited commentary on his latest programming breakthrough and the sappy movie Nick had put on after dinner.

The agency was doing well: there was money in the bank account, and in all their pockets, and no-one had beaten them up for over a month. That spelled success in Cody's book; the only downside was that they hadn't been out to deep water for nearly three months. That was a long time to work without a break, maybe the longest Cody had put in since they'd put the Military Police behind them, and he could feel himself starting to get tense and tired.

That was why he was napping now, instead of teasing Nick about his chick-flick taste in movies or joining in Murray's enthusiasm about the flapping green bats in Bozula II. He'd thought of going below and turning in, but that was the other thing about working so long at a stretch. That was when the nightmares came.

Nick nudged him gently and Cody raised his head, pushing thoughts of nightmares far away. "Huh?" he said muzzily, blinking in the salon light.

"Sit up a minute, Sleeping Beauty." Nick grinned at him crookedly. "I gotta use the head."

"Oh." Cody rubbed his eyes then sat up, leaning back against the cushion. Nick stood and went below, and Cody felt the walls closing in.

He stared at the TV, but couldn't focus. Murray's computer screen was no better, and neither was the Roboz - Cody breathed deep, trying to get himself back under control. _Home_, he recited to himself, over and over. _We're home, this is my boat, we're home._

As the edge of panic gnawed at his brain, Cody's eyes fell on the coffeepot. As he looked, he smelled it, the same black tarry brew he'd tasted in countless camps, beside more choppers than he wanted to remember. It anchored him, grounded him, and Cody forced the fear back, uncurling off the bench and jumping to his feet.

For an instant, he thought he'd stepped on a mine. Then reason kicked in -_ home, my boat_ - and he fell to the deck with an anguished scream as his left leg gave way under him, shooting spikes of pain up his calf.

"Cody! What's wrong?" Murray was standing over him, blocking the light, arms waving wildly.

Cody rolled on the floor, clutching at his leg. "Ow! Oh fuck - ow - fuck - " The shooting pain resolved into a dull throb, and pins and needles prickled uncomfortably inside his skin. Cody squeezed his eyes shut. "Ow!"

"Nick! Nick, you better come! I think Cody's hurt!"

Cody forced his eyes open again and managed a full breath. "It's okay, Murray," he panted. "Fuck - ow - I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." Murray squatted next to him, staring worriedly. "You don't look fine, either. Cody, what happened?"

"My foot - my leg." Cody managed a semblance of a smile, then grimaced as the tingling in his foot intensified. "It - it went to sleep, I guess. I didn't realize - I tried to stand - " He broke off with a gasp as his calf muscle knotted in a cramp. "Jesus, ow!"

"What's going on?" Nick appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes wild, gun in his hand. "What happened? Murray? Cody?"

"Nick, no!" Murray jumped up, holding his hands up and reaching out to Nick. But Nick had seen Cody on the floor, and he shoved the gun into Murray's outstretched hand and dropped to his knees.

"Cody! Babe, what happened?"

Cody gasped as another spike of pain shot up his leg, and then Nick had him by the shoulders. Cody collapsed thankfully against him, the last lingering thoughts of camps and choppers and mines disappearing with Nick's touch. While Nick held him, he couldn't be anywhere else but home.

With an effort, he made it to a sitting position, leaning back against Nick's arm. "What happened?" Nick asked more quietly.

"'S'nothing." Cody managed a deep breath and leaned down to rub his ankle. "My foot fell asleep. I tried to stand up... it gave way under me..."

Nick gave a low, relieved chuckle and tightened his arm around Cody's shoulders. "That all?"

Cody hesitated, looking back up at his partner. His eyes told Nick clearly that there was more, but it wasn't the kind of thing they talked about out loud.

Nick's eyes softened and he shifted, sliding his own shoulder behind Cody's. Cody swallowed hard, nearly overwhelmed at the strength, the _safety_, that the simple gesture gave him.

"You gotta take it easy, big guy,"' was all Nick said out loud. "Hey Boz, is there any of that popcorn left?"

"Oh, sure, Nick!" Murray sounded relieved at the normality of the question. "I'll go get it. Say, Cody, are you sure you're okay? Can I bring some ice, maybe, for your ankle?"

"No ice." With Nick's shoulder pressed against his own, Cody achieved something close to his usual grin. "Really, it's no big deal."

"Well, if you're sure..." Murray backed doubtfully toward the steps to the galley.

"I'm sure." Cody glanced at Nick, then scrambled to his feet. Nick came off the floor with him, arm still around him, taking half his weight. When Cody would have started for the coffeepot again, Nick restrained him.

"Sit down. You want a cup of coffee? I'll get you a cup of coffee, all right? And Murray's getting the popcorn, aren't you, man?"

"Sure, Nick!" Murray's uncertainty disappeared and he bounded for the galley steps. As Murray disappeared from view, Nick pulled Cody close, wrapping both arms around him and crushing him against his chest.

Cody let himself go limp into Nick's arms, dropping his head on his partner's shoulder and holding on.

"I got you," Nick said in Cody's ear. He held on a moment longer, then gently guided Cody to the booth. Cody dropped to the bench unsteadily, gripping the edge of the table with one hand. The other hand stayed clasped in Nick's, as Nick moved to the coffeepot and one-handed poured three cups of coffee.

Murray came back with a bowl overflowing with popcorn, and Murray and Nick moved the television onto the table so the screen was visible from the booth. Cody kept his head down, his eyes unfocused. The Vietnamese jungle was still too close, lurking at the edge of his senses, the hot stinking air curdling the smell of the popcorn. Cody held it at bay with everything he had, holding on to the rock of the Riptide as his partners moved about, and Nick's careful closeness, the way he brushed against Cody with every move.

Nick pushed Cody back into the corner of the booth and sat down himself, pulling Cody's left foot into his lap. "I know it's not John Wayne," Nick said, patting Cody's ankle, "but it's just getting to the good part." He pointed at the TV, and Cody blinked, sitting forward a little.

"Hey, is that Cher?"

"Yes, Cody, she won an Oscar for this. I really think her talent is quite outstanding, guys, don't you?" Murray grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl and started munching.

Nick slid one hand up Cody's bare leg and rested it on his knee. With the other hand, he pulled Cody's deck shoe off and rubbed the top of Cody's foot gently. "Okay?"

Cody nodded slowly, relaxing and leaning back into the corner. As long as Nick kept hold of him, he could win the war against the past. He looked into Nick's eyes for a long moment.

Nick smiled at him. "Coffee's getting cold."

With a grin, Cody picked up his coffee cup and turned his eyes to the television. He had no idea what was going on on the screen, but he let his eyes follow the moving pictures, even as his attention stayed on Nick.

The pins and needles in his foot had died down to a dull tingling. Nick started working the sole of Cody's foot with his thumb, pressing and probing, gently releasing the tension. Cody shuddered as his calf muscle spasmed in response, and Nick's touch moved up his leg, finding the knot and teasing it back to relaxation. As he rubbed Cody's foot, Nick's other thumb moved lightly on Cody's knee, over and over in the same geometric shape.

The touch told Cody everything Nick hadn't said out loud. How he was safe; how they were home. How Nick was with him, now and always; that however deep the jungle, however dangerous the enemy, he would never have to face it alone.

"It's been a long few months, boys," he said quietly, and set down his empty cup. "We haven't been deep sea fishing for a while. Whaddaya say, should we take a break this weekend?"

"Fishing! That'd be boss! Nick, I've been working on my mechanical bait, and you know what, I think even you will admit it's sportsmanlike now!"

"I doubt that, Murray." Nick gave Cody's foot an approving squeeze. "But I tell you what, I'm gonna give you and Cody a ten-fish headstart, all right? Then we'll see what sportsmanlike fishing is all about, you know?"

"If anyone needs a headstart, it's you, buddy." Cody grinned lazily, meeting his partner's eyes. Deep water. Space and the silence of the ocean that was no silence at all. Deep water - and Nick. He could feel his tension easing at the thought - or perhaps it was Nick's hand, kneading the pressure points in his foot.

Either way, Cody couldn't wait.

"Hey, Nick? Have we got plenty of supplies in case we don't catch anything, pal?"


End file.
